I never really knew her
by Eriks Little Stalker
Summary: Leia, while pregnant with Jacen and Jaina, contemplated her own mother. Meph, a speculation on how Padme would die, and the result of my isomnia. Yay.


I never really knew her,  
By, meh.  
  
RATING: G...I guess?  
SUMMARY: Leia thinks about her last moments with Padme, and contemplates how she doesn't want to share her mothers fate. As well, bashes her dad. YAY! XD!  
DISCLAIMER: GL aka TEH GOD owns Leia Organa/Skywalker/Solo, as well as Padme/Queen Amidala.  
I just own the speculation plot, somewhat after REVENGE OF tHE SITH and RETURN OF THE JEDI.  
I don't own Anakin, Luke, Obi-wan, or Bail at that. Nor Alderaan. Though, that would be teh cool if I ever did...dayuuuuuum.  
NOTE: Again, this is just a speculation on how Padme dies. I cannot see her commenting suicide,  
or wasting away from dispair. Either she; Died from natural sickness, or was killed in a battlefield.  
She is too strong of character to prove week traits.  
  
I really never knew her. Not really. Memories of lullabies, smiles, and fragrance of jasmine fills my lungs still to this day -- but, I never knew her. The real her. The girl my father, Anakin, fell in love with years ago on his, and Luke's, home of Tatooine.  
  
She passed when I was four. She was only thirty-one, too young to die, yet she did not live much. Everyday I'd wake up beside her, staring up at her with huge curious brown eyes,  
doey eyes, looking up into hers, and I wish beyound hope that I could make her stop crying.  
  
And yet, I remember. A fever broke out in Alderaan. A dangerous fever; killed many citizens or at the very least injured them permanently. Bail always guessed it was the war, the fumes of spaceships always ruin the air. It was a sunny day -- in the meadow -- and how ironic that it was my birthday, and my name means 'meadow'?  
  
Truly ironic.  
  
As every four-year-old, I spun around in circles. Giggling at my little games, faster and faster I would spin, the planet in my eyes spinning around with me, my bright chestnut hair twirling in the wind as I twirled. My blue frolic spinning too. The grass was tall, tall as I was, if not taller. I outstretched my arms to the skies, the skies I always wanted to see,  
just when I was older. What Bail always preached into my brain.  
  
I loved the skies.  
  
My mother, then known as Mommy, sad, her legs outstretched infront of her, leaning on her right arm for support. She wore a white silk dress, her chestnut spirals were down as well.  
She was so beautiful, to this day, her and her name live up to their beauty if you ever saw her.  
Her skin was golden, huge pink lips, chocolate doey eyes, long eyelashes...and she was not only beautiful...but, kind. Strong. Sad.  
  
Her eyes always seemed to tell a unknown story. Looking into her eyes she looked older than what she really was.  
  
She was also dying.  
  
The fever hit her when she went to a refuge camp, to tend to the children there. I wasn't allowed to go; It would be too critical since I always seemed to catch anything. My amune system was fairly weak when I was younger, though, I seemed to toughen it up a bit now that I'm twenty-three?  
  
As I spinned, loving it as the light of our two suns warm my skin, I accidently trip over my shoes and fall onto the ground on my back side.  
  
Thats when it happen.  
  
My eyes were blurry, since in my dizzyness, the world was still spinning before me. I fall to the ground giggling somemore. I cannot remember the exact words, but I think it was something like, "Did you see me, mommy? I was flying?" In exasperation of my play.  
  
But, she didn't answer.  
  
The fever weakens the heart more than anything, so while I was spinning, she was probably having a attack, and I never knew it. I sat up, when I didn't hear a reply. Somewhat hurt that she didn't find my game as facinating as I apparently did.  
  
Then, I saw her. Lying there. Her chest didn't heave its usual motion of heaving. Down. Up. Down.  
Ip. But rather tiny labored strains. Her body shaking. Scrambeling up, I ran over to her, and sat on my knee's facing her, my tiny hands on her shoulders. Shaking her.  
  
"Mommy!" I say in anguish, my bottom lip trembeling. Voice cracking.  
  
She looked at me, yet I do think she saw through me in some ways. She put her hand on my cheeek, a tear running down her face, and down her chin, and blink sadly.  
  
"I love you, Ani..."  
  
I know now she was speaking of my father. I guess, he only guessed she died. I knew about Anakin,  
but not Anakin Skywlaker; The Jedi as well Luke's hero. When I was fourteen, Bail sat me down and told me as much as he could, I know now that he did what he had to do.  
  
My father knew of Luke, but never me. Obi-Wan, Bail, and Padme..my mother had to keep me and my lineage a secreat from the Emperor and Anakin, who is more known as Darth Vader.  
  
In my mind, he killed the woman I never really got to know.  
  
In my mind, he took everything from me. My planet, my mother, the brother I was seperated from at birth,  
and the only father I ever got to hug, to kiss ont he cheek, and to dance with at formal balls and such.  
  
Almost eighteen years later now, and I lay her. Pregnant with my first child, or children. I lay on the bed,  
staring into the newly dawned sky. Han is gone for a buissness trip. Not a illegal one, thank the force. He won't be home 'till tomarrow, Luke might come with him as well.  
  
I want my daughter or son to know me. To remember me.  
  
Because I never knew her. Not really. 


End file.
